But, as I circumnavigated the room, I found a handle in
the wall which seemed worth investigating.
It was the door of a wall cupboard--what they call a 'press' in
Scotland--and it was locked. I shook it, and it seemed rather
flimsy. For want of something better to do I put out my strength
on that door, getting some purchase on the handle by looping my
braces round it. Presently the thing gave with a crash which I
thought would bring in my warders to inquire. I waited for a bit,
and then started to explore the cupboard shelves.
There was a multitude of queer things there. I found an odd
vesta or two in my trouser pockets and struck a light. It was out in
a second, but it showed me one thing. There was a little stock of
electric torches on one shelf. I picked up one, and found it was in
working order.
With the torch to help me I investigated further. There were
bottles and cases of queer-smelling stuffs, chemicals no doubt for
experiments, and there were coils of fine copper wire and yanks and
yanks of thin oiled silk. There was a box of detonators, and a lot of
cord for fuses. Then away at the back of the shelf I found a stout
brown cardboard box, and inside it a wooden case. I managed to
wrench it open, and within lay half a dozen little grey bricks, each a
couple of inches square.
I took up one, and found that it crumbled easily in my hand.
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